That first, frosty, autumn morn
I ventured out into the woods.
It was crisp and cold,
My breath hung momentarily in the air.
The trees had shed their leaves In the windy days
And were now carpeting the forest floor.
My first step onto the russet and gold carpet
Crunched so satisfyingly and each step the same.
I set off at a brisk pace,
Leaves crackling and rustling underfoot; so pleasing to the ear.
I continued my walk across this golden carpet
Accompanied by the leaves’ susurration
And remembrances of childhood,
Playing amongst the fallen leaves.
Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 6:29 AM UTC
That first, frosty, autumn morn
I ventured out into the woods.
It was crisp and cold,
My breath hung momentarily in the air.
The trees had shed their leaves In the windy days
And were now carpeting the forest floor.
My first step onto the russet and gold carpet
Crunched so satisfyingly and each step the same.
I set off at a brisk pace,
Leaves crackling and rustling underfoot; so pleasing to the ear.
I continued my walk across this golden carpet
Accompanied by the leaves’ susurration
And remembrances of childhood,
Playing amongst the fallen leaves.
A not very good attempt at describing an autumn walk. Homage to Robert Frost, maybe, but far, far inferior.
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